


Scenarios of Anticipation, Choice, and Desire

by BrushDog



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi's Absolute Territory, Clothed Sex, Cunnilingus, F/F, First Dates, First Kiss, Gender or Sex Swap, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-14 09:15:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5738029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrushDog/pseuds/BrushDog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Less than a year after Bokuto's graduation, only weeks before Akaashi's final Spring Tournament, Akaashi finds herself on the streets of Harajuku waiting for a certain pesky owl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scenarios of Anticipation, Choice, and Desire

Winter doesn't often come very hard in Tokyo. Akaashi's used to the typhoons of the late summer and early fall blending seamlessly into a sort of dreary, cloudy chill with the temperature only occasionally dipping down to where her breath frosts in the air and the cold nips at the tips of her fingers. With the month of December well underway, the trees lying bare, stripped of their leaves a month ago, today is certainly one of those days.

Sighing, she shifts from her left foot to her right, the her right hand unconsciously tugging at the middle two fingers of her left, rubbing some kind of warmth into the tingling skin there. Her eyes are fixed on the old fashioned clock hanging at the top of the stout white and brown building that is Harajuku station. The hands against the faded backdrop read 12:26. She knows by the schedule that at least seven different trains that have passed through the station since she arrived at 11:53. "You'd better not be late!" Bokuto had warned her. "I'm counting on you!" she'd said.

"You can hardly criticize me when you're the one who's always late," Akaashi mutters into a puff of air under her breath. Honestly, she shouldn't have expected any other outcome.

This isn't the first time that Bokuto's called her out since her graduation that spring. Bokuto's college is still in Tokyo and it isn't difficult for them to meet up somewhere in the city.

The volleyball club at Fukurodani still keeps up practice as usual, but it's Sunday so Akaashi has the day off. Although there's exams to study for and homework to be done, she knows that turning Bokuto down for a chance to meet is much more likely to turn into an incessant string of text messages that ends with Bokuto pounding at her front door and dragging her out regardless. Late as Bokuto may be, Akaashi knows she shouldn't expect to be out so long that she can't catch up on her work once she's home.

Yet even logic and reason can't combat the fact that it's cold and Bokuto still isn't here.

Beneath the clock, past the gates of the station, Akaashi can see the green-striped silver cars of the Yamanote Line rolling in on the far track. She watches the doors open, unable to hear the chime and the arrival announcement from where she stands, but the familiar cadence of "Harajuku, Harajuku," plays in her mind regardless.

Closing her eyes, she leans back against the wall behind her, playing out the sequence in her mind. Bokuto always rides in the fifth car. If she's paying attention, she'll be at the doors when they open, but if she's let a song on her phone or some sports news flash distract her, she'll be rushing out the doors just before they close. It's ten seconds to the stairs, which she'll take two at a time, regardless of who might be in her way, another fifteen to cross the tracks and follow the ramp down to the turnstiles. If the crosswalk signal isn't on, she'll have to wait at least a minute or two for the light to change, but it's only six seconds to cross the street at Bokuto's usual pace which would bring her right to where--

"Hey, Akaashi!"

Akaashi opens her eyes, looking up to where Bokuto is rushing towards her across the sidewalk.

"Bokuto-san," she says mildly, pushing her hands into pockets of her jacket as Bokuto comes to a halt before her. In the chill, Bokuto's nose and the tips of her ears are flushed bright red under the messy fringe of her hair. She still has the front of her jacket hanging wide open to reveal an oversized yellow sweater and a pair of jean shorts that might have been immodest, if not for the fact that she's worn them over black leggings that disappear under her knee high boots.

Although Akaashi's only wearing a pair of knee high stockings and a skirt herself, she can't help but shiver a little at the sight of Bokuto's open jacket. She's certain that Bokuto hasn't even noticed the chill.

"You're going to catch a cold like that," she says. "And you're late."

Bokuto's cheerful expression quickly gives way to a petulant pout, her arms crossed firmly over her chest.

"What happened to 'long time no see,' or 'it's good to see you again,' huh?"

"You still text me almost every day."

"That's not the same as seeing you," Bokuto says. Turning aside, she rubs one hand against the back of her head, chagrined. "Anyway, one of the girls in my dorm caught me on the way out cuz she needed help with some stuff. I'm really really sorry!"

To further her show of contrition, Bokuto seems to fall over herself in a bow, hands pressed tight together.

Akaashi closes her eyes and lets out a slow breath.

"If that's what it was, you could have just texted me," she says.

"Ah, I really thought it was just going to take a minute," Bokuto says, straightening up with a grin. "We just kind of lost track of time, yanno?"

"Yes, of course."

"Anyway, I'm here now, so let's go!" With a bounce in her step, Bokuto reaches out to hook her arm around Akaashi's, dragging her away from the wall with enough force that it leaves Akaashi stumbling in an attempt to stay on her feet.

"Bokuto-san," she says, protest lacing her voice. "You haven't even told me where we're going yet."

"Oh, that's right," Bokuto turns, thankfully slowing her pace and releasing Akaashi's arm from its prison. "One of the girls in my class told me there's this great pancake shop right around here, but the line's always huge and you've gotta wait forever. So I thought, well if everyone really wants these pancakes they must be amazing, right?"

"That does seem like it would be the case..." Akaashi agrees, tugging at the cuff of her coat to straighten the sleeve.

"Right, right. But I thought, even if they're really amazing pancakes, waiting in line forever all by myself is just a pain, there's no one to talk to and it's been crazy cold out lately, yanno?"

Akaashi pauses for a moment, imagining what sort of chaos Bokuto would bring about being forced to wait in line for any extended period of time all on her own.

"So that's why you invited me," she says, letting out a short sigh.

"You got it, Akaashi!" Bokuto says with a grin. "Well, really I asked Kuroo first, but she said she's got plans with Kenma and, yanno, that kind of stuff."

By "that kind of stuff," of course, Bokuto means the steady relationship that Kuroo and Kenma had since middle school. It isn't precisely public information, though the fast friendship that Bokuto and Kuroo forged as first years and Bokuto's lack of many normal social graces meant that she was one of the few members of the Fukurodani group to uncover it. Akaashi suspects that Kuroo remains discrete for Kenma's benefit more than anything else, but the fact that Bokuto's kept the secret for so long is nothing short of impressive.

For her own part, Akaashi's own knowledge of Kenma and Kuroo's relationship simply came along by way of the proximity she kept to Bokuto out of necessity during individual practices. The ace needed her setter on hand, overhearing Bokuto and Kuroo's brand of gossip was simply circumstantial.

At first, it seemed strange to her. Not because they're both girls. Akaashi sees no reason to discriminate in that way. What was strange was the difference in their personalities. Kuroo is like Bokuto in many ways, proud and full of energy with a determination and dynamism that inspires those around them, though Kuroo is much less prone to mood swings. On the other hand, Akaashi at times sees something of herself in Kenma's reserved and quiet attitude, though she does at times wonder if Kenma knows the meaning of the words 'ambition,' or 'propriety.' She'd certainly never seen anyone address complete strangers and upperclassmen so casually before Kuroo introduced her to Kenma.

Yet the more that she saw of the way that Kuroo and Kenma interacted, of the way that Kuroo always seems to keep one eye towards Kenma's comfort and well being, of the way that Kenma seems to relax around Kuroo where she wouldn't otherwise--even for Karasuno's number ten and the half-Russian ace that Nekoma acquired in their second year--the more it fell into place in Akaashi's mind.

It's fortunate for them, Akaashi thinks. Most of the girls on the team spend enough time at practice that having a boyfriend or any sort of significant other would prove to be a challenge in and of itself. But beyond that, it doesn't matter to her much. There's no need to get caught up in gossip or romance. She has her own team and studies to worry about: the Spring Tournament right around the corner and her entrance exams immediately afterwards.

A small voice at the back of her mind reminds her that standing out in the cold waiting for pancakes doesn't contribute to either of those goals, but he reasonable side responds that making an exception for Bokuto is probably the wisest choice.

"How far away is it?" she says, pushing her thoughts aside for the moment.

"Ten minute walk?" Bokuto frowns tilting her head in thought. "Maybe? Ah, wait, lemme check the directions."

Akaashi closes her eyes, lets out a slow breath, and nods.

It does only takes ten minutes to make their way to the shop, in the end. As promised, the line from the small, second story location stretches all the way down the block to the nearest corner. Akaashi gives it a long look, taking a mental inventory of the people she sees waiting. They're mostly girls, a few boyfriends clearly brought along for a date, with a handful of groups of friends and boys on their own. Depending on how many seats there are inside and how much the other parties feel like chatting, it could take them well over an hour to reach the front.

With a soft exhale, she pushes her hands deeper into her pockets, finding the hand warmers she'd dropped in that morning and curling her fingers around them.

Bokuto is hardly so easily defeated by the length of their wait.

"Geeze, take a look at this line, huh? Guess they weren't wrong about these pancakes."

"They do seem quite popular," Akaashi concedes. "It's impressive that they've gathered this much attention."

"Right? It's gotta be something like 'the best pancakes in all of Japan!' or something like that."

"That sounds like an outlandish claim."

"What, can't you even believe it for a minute?"

"Any place willing to make that sort of claim would have appeared on variety show or something similar."

"Akaashi, come on! You haven't even tried them yet!"

"Then, I'll reserve my judgement."

"I'm telling you, they're gonna be great pancakes!"

"I haven't tasted them yet, Bokuto-san"

"Akaaaashi."

The familiar, drawn out whine brings a strange sense of nostalgia sweeping over Akaashi. She pauses just a moment, her words caught in her throat, to turn and see Bokuto's habitual pout, her lower lip shoved forward with her hands balled into stubborn fists at her sides. It hasn't been a year since Bokuto's graduation, and it isn't as though she hasn't seen Bokuto since then. Bokuto takes every opportunity she has to stop by for Fukurodani's games, cheering them on loudly from the stands. She was even watching as they won the qualifying match for Tokyo only a few months ago.

Yet in that moment, Akaashi finds herself swept back to the court they stood on together at their last Spring Tournament. She sees frustration and anger in the furrow of Bokuto's brow and the curve of her lips that isn't there and feels it twist something inside of her. Text messages and hastily exchanged greetings at the end of an exhausting day of play aren't quite the same as something like this. If she has to place the feeling, she'd say it's some sort of longing, which leaves an unsettling weight at the back of her throat.

She swallows it away. 

"I am looking forward to it," she says instead.

"You could have just said that," Bokuto chides her, the angry phantom gone from her face.

"Of course."

"Anyway, they gotta be worth the wait," Bokuto says. She lets out a breath in a slow exhale, watching as the wispy trail of it vanishes into the air.

Transfixed by the same motion, Akaashi makes only a soft sound in the back of her throat as affirmation.

Companionable silences aren't a common occurrence with Bokuto. True to form, there's only a beat that passes between them before she speaks up again.

"They've picked the match up already, right?"

She's talking about the Spring Tournament. Even if she hasn't said as much, Akaashi knows it.

"Yes, that was last weekend."

"Who's our first match?"

"The winner of Kyushu Bungaku from Nagasaki and Kashiwai from Chiba, we have a bye in the first round."

"Huh," Bokuto frowns, her lips curled into a contemplative pout. "Never heard of them."

"Neither school is particularly noteworthy," Akaashi says, letting a slight hint of pride slip into her tone. "We're expected to win the second round easily."

"Listen to you talk!" Bokuto turns to her with a grin. "Who let Fukurodani's captain get overconfident, huh?"

"It isn't overconfidence, Bokuto-san," Akaashi corrects, schooling the smirk from her face. "That's simply what the reports are saying. The team knows as well as I do that the game won't be won until we face our opponents on the court."

"I know that much, Akaashi." Bokuto crosses her arms over her chest, favoring Akaashi with a pointed scowl. "I was your captain, remember!"

"Of course," Akaashi nods, "I couldn't forget."

Even as the words leave her lips there's something that seems off about the tone of them to her own ears. Something about them feels heavier, like they hold some greater significance than she realized when she let them slip. But whatever it is, Bokuto certainly doesn't seem to have noticed.

"That's right, that's right," she says, looking up to the clear winter sky with a grin wide across her face. "We had a good time back then, didn't we?"

Akaashi can't quite set the feeling she had aside, but it's only more troublesome if it's something that Bokuto notices. Instead, she presses it down, pulling her hands from her pockets to twist them together, the left pulling at the fingers of the right, as she nods slightly.

"It was enjoyable."

They fall into the moment of nostalgia brought on by the topic of volleyball easily. Bokuto already knows how well the team's performing this year, but they're still able to exchange stories about the years gone by, about Bokuto's first year at Fukurodani, events at summer training camps that Akaashi hadn't witnessed by sheer force of luck or something like it.

Throughout it all, Akaashi feels the strange sensation building at the back of her throat, tightening in her chest. The persistence of it is annoying, although the feeling itself isn't wholly unpleasant. It's more a sense of heightened awareness. She finds herself watching the lines of Bokuto's face more closely as the other girl turns from raucous laughter to scowling pouts and back to honest and genuine grins faster than any human should be capable of shifting moods.

Akaashi doesn't miss a beat in their conversation, but she finds her hands busy with no proper place to rest. She doesn't imagine Bokuto notices until suddenly she finds herself staring down at where Bokuto's calloused palms are held out to her.

"Bokuto-san?"

"Your hands're cold, right?" Bokuto says, her lips pulled down into a stubborn pout. "So give 'em here."

"Just what do you intend to--"

"Akaashi," she says. Akaashi can see the familiar glint in Bokuto's eyes that means whatever it is, she's set her mind on it. There's no escaping it now.

"Very well," she concedes, extending both hands out to Bokuto.

She isn't sure exactly what she expected Bokuto to do. Shoving Akaashi's hands down her shirt or into her armpits or something equally ridiculous, probably. What she didn't expect was for Bokuto to press her palms together, wrapping her hands carefully around Akaashi's while gently rubbing them to keep them warm.

It startles her. She almost pulls away, but instead settles for lifting her gaze to where Bokuto's bright eyes are watching her, a wide grin stretched over her face.

"How's that?" Bokuto asks. "My hands're pretty warm, right?"

Akaashi purses her lips. She can't deny it. Even the movement of Bokuto's hands alone would be enough to generate some sort of friction to warm her chilled fingertips, but instead it feels like there's something more. It feels like there's a separate heat radiating from the palms of Bokuto's hands.

She tells herself that it's just the cold that's making her cheeks and the tip of her nose tingle in an unfamiliar way.

"Your palms are sweaty, Bokuto-san."

Bokuto scowls. "Hey hey, is that how you say thank you, Akaashi?"

Akaashi lets out a short breath, ducking her head slightly to look at where Bokuto's larger palms completely encompass hers. "No, it's just an observation."

"You should at least thank me." Akaashi doesn't need to look to hear the pout in Bokuto's voice. "I'm taking good care of you."

"My hands are much warmer now," Akaashi concedes.

When she looks up, Bokuto's grinning again, content with her victory. Akaashi knows that there's no need to say anything more, but she feels something itching at the back of her throat. It might just be the cold, but even the slight movement of Bokuto's hands against hers feels like it sends sparks dancing under her skin. It's unfamiliar, but not in a bad way. Even though she can feel the chill of the wind at her legs and against her ears, it seems to burrow in her chest as something warmer.

She draws in a slow breath, letting it out in a puff of warm air into the space between Bokuto and herself. Bokuto tilts her head, her brows drawn together with a curious turn to her lips. Akaashi blinks, suddenly aware that Bokuto's been watching her, that there must have been some sort of shift to her own expression to have caught Bokuto's eye in that way. She opens her mouth to ask what it is when behind her, the door to the restaurant opens. Bokuto drops her hands and the waitress hurriedly ushers them in before they let out too much of the heat.

The shop is no larger than it seems from the outside. A few tables push up against a bench that lines the wall, with a scant few more seats set up against a bar that overlooks the griddles where the cooks are hard at work. It's only a few steps before they're seated, Bokuto's knees bumping against hers under the table as they shift to pull their jackets off. Bokuto's grin is back again in full force, her eyes closing as she takes in a deep breath.

"Smell that, Akaashi? Doesn't it smell great?"

"It smells very nice, Bokuto-san," Akaashi says automatically. The warm scent of pancakes and sugar on the air is a welcome change after their long wait in line outside.

"It smells great!" Bokuto enthusiastically declares. "That's why this place is the best. Anyway, today I'm treating you, so order whatever you want."

"Bokuto-san?" Akaashi blinks, both eyebrows raised in surprise. She hadn't been expecting that.

"What? I said I'm treating you. That's what a senpai's supposed to do, right?"

"You were my senpai for two years but you haven't treated me to a meal before," Akaashi points out, glancing down at her menu.

"Akaashi! Is that any way to thank your generous senpai?"

Akaashi glances up. She can see a flush tinging the tips of Bokuto's ears. Or no, maybe it's just the cold.

"Thank you, Bokuto-san."

"That's right," Bokuto huffs, arms crossed over her chest. Beneath the table, her knee shifts restlessly, brushing against Akaashi's again a few more times before Bokuto startles, looking down and then away, shifting to rearrange herself in the chair.

Akaashi keeps half an eye on her as she reads through the rest of the menu. In the space of just a few minutes, she watches as Bokuto uncrosses her arms, crosses them again, puts both hands on the table, puts both hands on the chair, shifts the chair forward, shifts the chair back, tugs her lower lip into her mouth by her teeth and then shoves it out again in a pronounced pout, her gaze pointedly avoiding Akaashi the whole time.

Akaashi sighs.

"Bokuto-san."

"You ready to order?" Bokuto says, her gaze snapping back to Akaashi's with a wide grin. "I know what I want already, so--"

"That's not it," Akaashi cuts her off smoothly. She sets the menu down on the tables, her hands settled in her lap. Unconsciously, she can feel the fingers of her left hand curling over the fingers of the right, gripping the chapped skin there and pulling. "You're nervous."

Bokuto frowns, her shoulders hunched up, like some sort of animal on the brink of fight or flight. "I'm not nervous, I'm just cold! Aren't you cold? It was freezing out there, wasn't it?"

"It was," Akaashi concedes. "But it's hardly so cold inside here."

"Well the door--I mean it's right behind me so I can feel when the open it, right?"

"No one has come in or out since we arrived, Bokuto-san."

"Try to have some sympathy, Akaashi," Bokuto says, her lip jutting forward in a pout.

Akaashi pauses a moment, studying Bokuto. Whatever it is that's on her mind, it's something she wants to keep hidden. That much is apparent. Trying to take her on directly like this won't serve to accomplish anything.

"Would you like to change seats?" Akaashi says instead.

"I'm not changing seats," Bokuto says firmly. "I'm just telling you I'm cold."

"I understand," Akaashi says with a quiet sigh, looking back down to the menu.

"Akaashi."

The tone of Bokuto's voice, lower and deeper, draws Akaashi's gaze up again. When she meets Bokuto's eyes she's surprised to find herself pinned with the sort of intensity that she's only seen in tournament play before. The hairs at the back of her neck seem to stand on end, her skin prickling beneath her shirt and coat, brought alive by the electricity that's charged in Bokuto's sharp, golden eyes.

She inclines her head in a slight nod, refusing to break her gaze away, refusing to blink, lest she lose sight of Bokuto as she is now. "What is it?"

The charge of the moment holds a moment longer. Bokuto has both hands on the edge of her chair, her shoulders pushed taut and back, her entire body leaned ever so slightly forward. Her grin is gone, replaced by the flat pursed line of her lips.

But just as quickly as she changed, she shifts again, settling back into her chair with an easy grin. "Come on, hurry up and pick what you want. I'm starving."

Akaashi turns her head down, letting the shiver through her spine subside. She shakes her head slightly to no one but herself.

It's something, that's for certain. It isn't the cold at all. But it's something that Bokuto needs the time to come to terms with, it's something that Bokuto needs to find the words for before she can speak to Akaashi on her own.

"I'm ready to order," she says.

"Great," Bokuto beams, turning quickly to flag the waitress down.

As promised, the pancakes are something quite impressive. Bokuto's come laden with bacon, tomato, and arugula while Akaashi's holds smoked salmon, avocado, onions, and capers. Though Akaashi has only ever had pancakes as a sweet snack, usually at the indulgence of her parents or grandparents, the fluffy texture of the cakes lends itself well to savory applications.

She allows herself to be persuaded by Bokuto into sharing a dessert at the end of the meal, both of them splitting a pancake covered in a sweet white chocolate sauce and chopped macadamia nuts.

Between snatches of conversation and the warm, welcome air of the shop, Akaashi's earlier mood eases into something more like easy contentment. Though the harsh wind that greets them when they step outside cuts against that as sharp as any knife, she finds it difficult to let go of the pleasant warmth inside her.

Although Bokuto insists on going shopping or stopping to see a movie or something else, Akaashi knows that since she's satisfied Bokuto's initial desire to spend time together and visit the pancake shop, she feels safer in declining. After a short-lived pout, Bokuto concedes that, perhaps, Akaashi has important matters to attend to such as her studies and preparation for the upcoming Spring Tournament games.

They walk side by side to the station, Bokuto going on about the courses that she's taking this semester and how well she thinks she's doing in all of them. Akaashi chides her several times for not keeping up with her studies throughout the term which just prompts another of Bokuto's signature scowls and a quick retort. Yet when they part ways, Akaashi on a southbound train and Bokuto on one bound north, Bokuto grins and waves Akaashi off to her train.

"You'd better not slack off on your studies!" she says to Akaashi, half in jest.

"I believe that I'll manage," Akaashi says in reply, standing just inside her train, waiting for the doors to slide closed.

"I'm not saying you won't, I'm saying do your best, Akaashi!"

Akaashi blinks, transfixed for a moment by the determined flush of Bokuto's cheeks. Her eyes are bright and sharp again, the intent sort of gaze that Akaashi only ever witnesses out of the corner of her eye, watching as Bokuto's mind races in snap second judgements of where to aim her spikes.

"I will," she says as the doors slide shut, Bokuto's face still visible beyond them.

The expression is gone, replaced by a wide grin as Bokuto flashes her a thumbs up before turning to cross the platform to where her train's arriving on the other side.

Left alone now with her thoughts, Akaashi tries to come to some understanding of the nervous tension, of the energy that seems to have coursed through her meeting with Bokuto today. Yet as much as she tries to place it or put a name to it, her mind seems to turn away, instead replaying the events of the day which only makes the weight at her throat and chest build in intensity.

It's enough that she nearly misses her stop on the way home, glancing up only just in time to push herself up and through the train doors before they close. When she arrives home, she finds the house dark and empty, an open invitation to dwell on thoughts that simply won't put themselves in order.

Sighing, she sets aside the note from her parents informing her that they'll be out late for the night, moving straight to her room. Studying should be a welcome distraction, she thinks, setting her coat and phone aside to turn to the books already open across her desk.

Only a few minutes after Akaashi sets her phone on the desk it buzzes insistently with a new message notification. Glancing at the flash of white on the screen's display, she doesn't even need to unlock it to know who the message is from, but she does anyway.

Akaashi's eyes scan over the message, pausing for a moment before she writes her reply.

Bokuto's reply comes a moment later.

Glancing to the calendar on her desk, Akaashi weighs her options. She'd made an exception today, which stands to reason that there's no reason she couldn't make the same exception again, but there's something else that catches her eye instead.

Akaashi sighs. She knows that Bokuto isn't seeing anyone so the holiday hardly holds any significance, but to think that she'd forget the date completely is something else. Yet just as she's about to enter her reply her phone buzzes with another message.

Her finger pauses over the screen, hovering just below the characters there. Yet before she can reply, before she can even try to come to understand the pressure against her throat and her chest her phone buzzes again insistently.

She presses each character in Bokuto's name with a deliberate force, as if the time spent composing the message could convey something more of how she feels at this moment, her fingers numb and her mouth suddenly feeling too dry. Her phone buzzes with a few more of Bokuto's incoherent ramblings before it finally pauses only to buzz again a moment later.

Akaashi lets out a breath she wasn't aware of holding. Closing her eyes, she can imagine all too well what Bokuto's expression must be like right now. After all, she'd seen it earlier today, hadn't she? When Bokuto's hands closed over hers, when her knee brushed against Bokuto's In the pancake shop, on the train platform before they'd gone their separate ways. She may be out of practice, but Akaashi still thinks herself rather skilled at understanding Bokuto's unpredictable moods as much as they can be understood. This is that charged and anxious feeling, the thread of tension wound too tightly wanting release. This is it, the cause of it all.

In a way, it feels like a weight has been lifted from Akaashi's shoulders just knowing that. She's seen Bokuto's mood swings before, her victories and her defeats. They're as endearing as they are extreme, why would she expect Bokuto's affections to be any different. 

She looks down to her phone again, watching where the cursor stands ready and waiting. For once, there's no need to imagine what sort of options are available to her in this situation, or what Bokuto's reaction might be. In the end this is just another piece of the mystifying puzzle that is Bokuto falling into place.

She feels a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips despite herself, fully expecting the buzz of her phone only a moment later.

There's a pause before the next message, Bokuto's hesitation showing through. Akaashi wonders mildly if she's pushed her too far, if she should have been gentler in her acceptance, but Bokuto replies before she can consider how she could even phrase it in a gentler way.

Akaashi's mouth twists slightly. In the end, it doesn't matter much to her. She's fine with matters as they are, but if Bokuto wanted something different, she knows very well that it could linger.

She blinks, staring down at her phone, one eyebrow arched in question at the sudden message.

Akaashi turns, looking to the door of her bedroom before glancing incredulously back at her phone. She'd left Bokuto on the platform to catch her train heading the other direction, hadn't she? That had been almost half an hour ago now, hadn't it? Her lips draw into a flat line, her eyes narrowed on the text of her reply.

Setting her phone aside, Akaashi turns to the door and makes her way down the stairs. She doesn't bother with her shoes, just pushing her feet into a pair of slippers before she opens the door. Outside, it isn't quite dark out yet, but in the twilight of the setting sun and the light of the streetlights flickering to life she can see Bokuto standing there in front of the gate, staring up at the open door with her phone still clutched in her hand.

"Oh--" she says, completely caught by surprise even though she was the one who had asked Akaashi to open the door in the first place. The expression is quickly replaced by a wide grin as she steps up to the gate, shoving her phone into her pocket. "Does that mean I can come in?"

Akaashi sighs, resisting the urge to shake her head in exasperation.

"The gate is open, Bokuto-san," she says instead.

"Akaashi, you're supposed to ask me to come in!" Bokuto chides her, both hands braced on the edge of the gate.

"Didn't you demand that I open the door for you earlier?" Akaashi replies, feeling a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"I wasn't demanding, I was just cold."

"Of course." Akaashi pauses a moment, her eyes carefully tracing over the hunch of Bokuto's shoulders, the slight puff of her ruddy cheeks that lend a particularly childish air to the pout across her lips. Although she's seen the same sight time and time again, in light of Bokuto's earlier messages, it feels her with a strange new sense of warmth. As though this is a moment to be carefully indexed, recorded, and tucked away to be remembered for the years.

"Won't you come inside?" she says, not more than a second later.

Bokuto offers a confident smile with a slight nod of her head. "I'm coming"

She quickly pushes the gate open, crossing the short path that divides it from the front door of Akaashi's house. Standing in the doorway, Akaashi feels like every step draws a little more breath from her lungs, leaving her chest and throat tight with anticipation. She schools her expression carefully, the same usual sort of mild disinterest showing on her face as she steps aside to let Bokuto into her house, following closely after.

Bokuto tugs her shoes off quickly in a familiar gesture. She's been to Akaashi's house several times before, even though the circumstances are somewhat different this time. She glances back to Akaashi as she steps up and out of the entryway.

"Your parents aren't home?"

"No," Akaashi replies, slipping out of her shoes and following her up. "They left a note. They'll be back late tonight."

"So it's just us, huh..."

"It's just us."

The change in Bokuto's demeanor is nearly instantaneous. From the bright flush over her cheeks, to her sudden inability to look Akaashi in the face, it's obvious that she hadn't quite expected Akaashi to be home alone for this undertaking.

"Well that's--fine--" she says, rubbing one hand against the back of her neck in an awkward gesture. "Anyway I didn't really mean to stay, I just wanted to say--you know--"

It's almost endearing, in a way. Bokuto's bravado may be backed up by talent and skill on the volleyball court, but in a situation like this, Akaashi imagines, the lack of experience leaves her at a loss. It's not that Akaashi is one to talk, though. Even if she isn't nearly as out of sorts as Bokuto seems at that moment, she can still feel a thrumming tension running just under her skin. She swallows against the hot feeling at the back of her throat, twisting her hands together, eyebrows lifted as she nods to Bokuto, prompting her on wordlessly.

Bokuto catches the gesture out of the corner of her eye, taking a moment to glance at the floor before she suddenly surges forward, catching Akaashi's hands in hers, staring her straight in the eye.

"Akaashi," she says.

"Yes, Bokuto-san?" Akaashi says, completely unphased by the sudden movement, her eyes sharp as they watch Bokuto's face, fingers twisting only slightly in her grasp.

"To tell you the truth, I didn't hear about the pancake place from some girls in my class or anything like that. That was a lie."

Akaashi blinks. She lifts one eyebrow with a dubious expression. This wasn't what Bokuto had said she'd wanted to come in for.

"It was?" she asks instead, humoring Bokuto for the moment.

"It was," Bokuto replies, her mouth fixed in a set line. "Really, I just...I'd wanted to see you. I know I got to see you at the games I've been to and we've spent some time together on the weekends and things like that, but that's not enough time, Akaashi. Back when we were on the team, back in high school we saw each other every day, didn't we?"

"We did," Akaashi says, nodding slightly.

"Right! There'd be morning practice and afternoon practice and we'd walk to the station together sometimes too. But at my college there's a different setter and she's really good but it's not like we live in the same dorm or anything, and the practices just aren't the same and we were at the Inter-College tournament just last week and it wasn't right--it wasn't the same since you weren't there, Akaashi."

Akaashi's stomach twists in an unfamiliar but not altogether unpleasant way. She swallows to mask it, twisting her fingers against Bokuto's in a gesture that she doesn't think goes unnoticed.

"You had a different setter your entire first year, Bokuto-san," she says instead, lightly chiding. "Doesn't someone at your level have enough skill to adapt to unfamiliar circumstances?"

"I'm playing just fine." Bokuto's lower lip juts out in a pronounced pout. "It just isn't the same sort of thing, it isn't what we had."

"We can't reclaim the past."

"I'm not trying to reclaim it." The fire has returned to Bokuto's eyes now. Even in the dim light of the entryway they're bright and wide. Akaashi finds it's hard to turn away, hard to breathe even, caught so close in the intensity of the gaze. She doesn't start, not when Bokuto steps forward to back her up against the wall next to the stairway, not when Bokuto's hands squeeze tighter around hers. "I want something new, Akaashi. Whether it's college or whatever happens after that for us, no matter what happens, I want you to be there with me."

Bokuto stands only mere centimeters away from her now. Akaashi doesn't think she's ever seen her eyes this close before. Even though her mind is racing, she can't seem to put a single coherent thought together, completely swept up in the racing of her heart against her chest, the dry, sticking feeling at the back of her throat.

She finds her words after a moment's pause, longer than usual, long enough for Bokuto's expression to shift to something uneasy, searching.

"That's a little more than just asking me out on a date, Bokuto-san," she says, breathless even to her own burning ears.

"Ah, maybe..." Bokuto shifts back, only slightly, with an easy smile. "I couldn't really think about how I wanted to say it, so all that just came out."

"I suppose it can't be helped," Akaashi breathes out, muttering to herself more than to Bokuto, really, but she can see Bokuto's grin spread wider at the words.

"I really feel that way about you! All of it!"

"I don't doubt that."

"So then...what about you?"

Akaashi draws in a slow breath through her nose, meeting the expectant look in Bokuto's eyes.

"I told you that I would date you, didn't I?"

"I know that," Bokuto says, a brighter flush creeping over her cheeks, her eyes darting to the side. "That's what you said, right?"

"It is." Akaashi nods slightly.

"But that doesn't say anything about how you feel or anything like that!" Bokuto's gaze snaps back to meet Akaashi's. "I told you how I feel so I want to hear the same, Akaashi!"

It isn't an unreasonable demand, Akaashi thinks with another nod. It's actually somewhat unexpected for Bokuto to go as far as wishing to make sure that their feelings on the matter are the same. Wasn't that what was written in all those different magazines and online dating sites? Communication is the key to a successful relationship, thinks like that. But putting words to describe the way that she actually feels about Bokuto isn't quite so simple.

"I think that it's the same, but in a different way," she says at length, favoring Bokuto's confused pout with a fond smile.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that you're many different things for me, Bokuto-san." Akaashi closes her eyes for a moment, letting her hands twist against the heat of Bokuto's palms, letting the sound of Bokuto's breath mix with the beating of her own heart before she opens them again. "You're an experienced player whose skills I envy. You're a former captain whose dedication I admire." She pauses a moment, considering, before adding. "Sometimes, you're like a frustrated child who needs someone to take them by the hand and tell them it's going to be all right."

"You don't have to go that far, Akaashi!" Bokuto scowls, tugging at her hands.

Akaashi feels the corners of her lips twitch in response. "It's my honest feelings, Bokuto-san."

"Tch." Bokuto's cheeks puff, her brows furrowed tight. "Is that all of it?"

"No, that's not all." Akaashi shakes her head slightly. "You're also a valuable friend who's shown me things that I don't think I would have witnessed on my own. And also...perhaps the only person who I've wanted to have at my side."

"Oh..."

Bokuto's hands squirm against Akaashi's, her face flushed darker. Akaashi doesn't think she's ever seen Bokuto caught off guard in this way, but it certainly isn't a bad look on her. Glancing down to their linked hands, she steadily laces their fingers together, letting her thumbs brush in soft circles against the back of Bokuto's palm before she looks up again.

"Is that what you wanted to hear?"

She sees Bokuto's throat working as she swallows, nodding a few times quickly in agreement. "That's--what I wanted to hear."

"Then, it's settled, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Bokuto nods again. He lips slowly spread in a smile that's sharp at the edges, vibrant against the flush on her cheeks. "Hey, Akaashi."

"What is it?" Akaashi asks, favoring Bokuto with a mildly curious expression.

"What we did today, that was kind of like a date, wasn't it?"

"It did resemble one, in places." Akaashi concedes after a moment's contemplation.

"So, it's all right if I end it like a date, right?"

Akaashi doesn't have a chance to respond before Bokuto's presses forward, her lips hovering a mere centimeter away, her eyes already lidded with predatory anticipation. She's waiting, Akaashi realizes over the flurry of her own pulse pounding in her ears, waiting for Akaashi, letting Akaashi decide if they'll go this far. The power in her hands thrills her, sending a burning shiver down her spine in a heady rush that she feels tugging at the corners of her lips.

She squeezes at Bokuto's hands, letting her eyes fall closed as she presses forward, a whisper slipping between her lips and Bokuto's.

"It's all right."

By all rights, it's Akaashi's first kiss. Her lanky build and short shorn hair have kept her from attracting much attention from the boys and girls of her class, and she's never seen a point in pursuing something outside of volleyball and her studies. Yet for all that she hadn't anticipated this turn of events, it's pleasant nonetheless.

Bokuto's lips are chapped and dry against hers, a results of her nervous habit of chewing at them in combination with her refusal to wear chapsticks and lip gloss like most girls their age. Akaashi doesn't mind it. The rough edges are Bokuto all over. The catch of Bokuto's lips against her feels like a spark on her skin, electric and magnetic all at once. She presses in only enough to feel Bokuto pressed back, comfortable enough to let herself fall into the intensity that Bokuto brings, pinning her against the wall with the force of her palms and the heat of her lips.

By the time they pull apart, Bokuto's panting breaths are heavy in her ears, Bokuto's chest pressed flush against hers. Akaashi half opens her eyes to see Bokuto's pupils spreading wider, her tongue darting out to savor the taste of Akaashi on her lips.

"Akaashi," she says, her voice rough and breathless.

Akaashi isn't sure if it's a question or a statement, but she nods regardless, giving Bokuto the permission she needs to dive in again, claiming Akaashi's lips for her own. In her second kiss, Akaashi allows her lips to part, pliant and wanting as Bokuto's tongue presses in to push their kiss deeper.

Bokuto is clumsy, perhaps a little too aggressive, but Akaashi doesn't wholly mind it. She feels Bokuto's grasp loosen in hers a moment before Bokuto tears her hands away, reaching up to frame Akaashi's face in her calloused palms, her fingertips trailing against Akaashi's scalp, leaving the skin burning and alive with sensation wherever they go.

Akaashi feels the moan that tears from her throat before she hears it. Her face flushes darker as it reverberates against Bokuto's lips and tongue before Bokuto pulls away with a wild grin that's more teeth than lips against her face.

"Akaashi," she says, lower this time. "You like this?"

Resisting the urge to let out an irritated sigh, Akaashi lets her eyes slipped closed instead, exhaling roughly. "Yes, Bokuto-san."

"Good." Bokuto's fingers catch in Akaashi's hair, tilting her head back. Her nose quickly finds the exposed skin of Akaashi's neck, trailing up along it, her lips leaving words whispered into the hollow of Akaashi's throat. "You said...your parents aren't gonna be home for a while, right?"

Akaashi's pulse races under the light touch of Bokuto's lips. Her palms press harder against the wall of her entryway, fingers tracing the grain of the wood to help her focus on something other than the wet heat of Bokuto's breath, the electric touch of Bokuto's hands.

"They won't. Not until later tonight."

"Then, could we...?"

Bokuto shifts away, just enough to look down to Akaashi, leaving only a precious few millimeters of space between their lips.

Akaashi knows what she's asking. In an instant her mind provides her the vivid image of what it is that Bokuto wants, her imagination needed little help to know what it would be like to see sweat slick over the taut skin of Bokuto's arms, her face flushed and straining, her chest heaving with effort. Akaashi's never wanted that sort of thing for herself, or rather she's never spared a thought to having it, since she's had no one who would make a proper partner in mind and she's more than capable of tending to her needs on her own. Staring into the bright rim of gold that lines Bokuto's eyes, letting her fantasies feed into the heat building between her legs, she realizes that she's found a partner who's more than suitable.

"Yes, Bokuto-san," she says, her voice low, meant for Bokuto alone. She reaches up to thread her fingers through Bokuto's hair in a mirror image of Bokuto's hold on her, resting their foreheads together. "I'd like that."

She hears Bokuto's grin before she feels it, the quick inhale of breath before curved lips claim hers again, both of them vying for power this time, Akaashi's body pushing up and off of the wall to press flush to Bokuto in every way that she can.

Making it up the stairs is a struggle. Bokuto doesn't seem willing to let Akaashi escape for more than a few seconds before she claims her lips in searing kisses, and Akaashi is willing to indulge her in this, at least. They tumble into Akaashi's room with lips still locked together, Akaashi's hand groping blindly to shut the door behind them before Bokuto pins her against it with a forceful push.

"Akaashi," Bokuto breathes against the line of Akaashi's jaw, her fingers already making quick work of the buttons on Akaashi's blouse. Her hands slide over the fabric of Akaashi's bra and the full curve of her breasts beneath, firm palms stroking hard against her before they slide down over Akaashi's sides to the hem of her skirt.

Akaashi shudders involuntarily at the rush of cool air that meets her skin. She feels Bokuto's lips curve somewhere just under her ear a moment later.

"You cold, Akaashi?"

"The house is still warming up," Akaashi says, impressed that her voice only betrays her with a slight waver. Her hands quickly find Bokuto's shoulders, pushing Bokuto's bulky winter coat off and out of the way.

"Lucky you, my hands are still warm." Bokuto rolls her shoulders to let the jacket fall to the ground, flashing Akaashi a grin before she lowers both palms to slide against the bare patch of skin between Akaashi's skirt and her knee high stockings. "I couldn't stop staring here today, yanno."

"At my legs?" Akaashi arches one eyebrow, her chest heaving as she uses the moment to catch her breath.

Bokuto steals it from her a moment later, her lips closing over Akaashi's before she pulls away, favoring Akaashi with a hooded gaze.

"You've got really nice legs, Akaashi."

Her hands slide up Akaashi's thighs, half to emphasize her point, half to tease as they draw back down as soon as her fingers brush the hem of Akaashi's panties.

"But I thought they looked really cold today," she adds, stealing another kiss, her thumbs rubbing warm circles against the inside of Akaashi's weakening knees. "I just wanted to warm them up."

"Bokuto-san," Akaashi breathes out. She lets her eyes open halfway, watching Bokuto's expectant smirk through the shadow of her own lashes. Slowly, Akaashi drags her fingers against the nape of Bokuto's neck, letting them trace up to bury in Bokuto's hair again as she shifts her legs under Bokuto's grasp, spreading them wider. "I told you I want to have sex with you. You don't need to try to seduce me now."

"That's not seduction, that's just how I feel, Akaashi!" Bokuto stammers, her hands squeezing tighter against Akaashi's thighs.

"My legs aren't cold now," Akaashi answers easily. She glances down at where Bokuto's hands vanish under the hem of her skirt, looking back up a moment later, her lower lip caught in her teeth in a deliberate gesture. "So what will you do?"

"Now who's being seductive?" Bokuto says with a pout, tweaking at Akaashi's skin with a light pinch.

Akaashi inhales sharply, a little surprised at how pleasant the sensation is, before she favors Bokuto with a mild glance. "You still haven't told me what you want to do."

Bokuto rallies quickly with sharp grin, her cheekbones flushed bright as she lowers herself down, nipping against the hollow of Akaashi's throat. 

"Instead of that," she purrs into Akaashi's skin, "How about I show you?"

"Go on," Akaashi consents, tilting her head back before letting her eyes slip closed again.

Akaashi is pleased to find Bokuto's earlier disappointment is all but forgotten as she devotes herself completely to the task at hand. Her lips quickly trace a wet trail down Akaashi's chest, her hands continuing to tease along the inside of Akaashi's thighs, drawing closer with each pass, but never quite reaching the spot where Akaashi wants them the most, never quite daring to completely push aside the fabric of Akaashi's panties. The hot and teasing touches are all that distracts Akaashi from the fact that Bokuto doesn't seem to be intent on her breasts at all, instead cutting a quick line between them as she lowers herself down, lips and teeth nipping and grazing over the taut skin of Akaashi's stomach.

It isn't until Bokuto's tongue darts out against the hem of her skirt, her thumbs working under her panties at the line of her hipbones, that Akaashi realizes what her intentions are. She leans back against the door heavily, bracing her shoulders against the wood as her hands track restlessly through the mess that is Bokuto's hair.

"Bokuto-san," she breathes. The sound of it is just enough to catch Bokuto's attention, her eyes glinting brightly up at Akaashi as she favors her with a grin.

"You get it now, Akaashi?" Bokuto says with a lilt to her voice. Her thumbs hook on the hem of Akaashi's panties, finally pulling them down just enough so that they fall to the floor by their own weight, already damp in the center.

"Yes," Akaashi nods. She swallows firmly, pressing her fingertips in hard points against Bokuto's scalp. "I think you should hurry up."

"I won't keep you waiting." Bokuto's teeth flash for a moment before she lowers herself completely, kneeling down on the floor between Akaashi's legs.

Her next touch is a wet brush of lips to the inside of Akaashi's knee. Her wide palms wrap around the back of Akaashi's thighs, bracing and supporting them as they shiver in anticipation of what's to come. Akaashi isn't quite sure what's more maddening, the light, nipping touches of Bokuto's lips and teeth to the sensitive skin of her thighs, or knowing full well what their aim is. She sucks in quick breaths, letting her eyes fall closed as she trusts the weight of her legs to Bokuto's grasp, lifting her hips from the door and spreading her legs wider, inviting.

Bokuto takes the invitation with the same sort of enthusiasm that Akaashi knows to expect from her. She feels the brush of Bokuto's cheek against her folds before anything else and it still leaves her shuddering. When Bokuto pauses to suck against the skin just at the joint of her hips, leaving a darkening mark with the work of her teeth and tongue, Akaashi feels a moan pull involuntarily from her throat, the sound of it heating her cheeks with a dark flush.

Bokuto pauses a moment at the sound. Akaashi can feel the heat of Bokuto's breath against her skin, the shift of her lips as they start to form Akaashi's name.

"Don't stop--" Akaashi insists before Bokuto has a chance to put her voice to the word. Her voice pitches strangely, choked and low, but she doesn't bother to clear it. "Don't stop now, Bokuto--"

Bokuto replies with a low hum against Akaashi's thighs, the fingers of her hands pulsing in a reassuring squeeze. Her tongue darts out, parting Akaashi's wet folds with a hot, firm stroke a moment later.

"Bokuto--" Akaashi breathes. The honorific dies on her lips, a hissing exhale of air taking the place of her usual manners. Bokuto's earlier teasing is completely forgotten in her motions. Her tongue plunges in deep, lapping against Akaashi's entrance, drawing out more of her juices. Akaashi squirms despite herself. She rolls her hips down, hard, trying to draw the touch of Bokuto's tongue up, urging her against the burning heat of her aroused clit with an insistent energy.

"Bokuto-san," she gasps, half opening her eyes to gaze down at the wrinkled mess of her skirt with the shifting form of Bokuto's head beneath it. "--please, a little higher--"

Instead of complying, Bokuto only answers with a rumbling hum of her lips against Akaashi's folds. Her tongue curls inside of Akaashi's walls as if in question, sending fire blazing up Akaashi's spine as she feels her legs weaken.

"Bokuto," she chokes out. Her voice hardly holds much censure with as heated and breathless as her tone is now, but it certainly won't stop her from trying.

Bokuto answers her a moment later, the flat of her tongue pressing Akaashi's folds apart with a swift swipe upward. When she drags it across Akaashi's clit, wet and hot and rough all at once, Akaashi feels herself pulsing with the pleasure of it.

"More--"

She twists her fingers tight in Bokuto's hair, all but dragging her forward, rolling her hips in with the motion. Bokuto moans against her in reply. The tip of her tongue flicks swiftly over Akaashi's clit, her lips closing over it a moment later. She sucks over it, rolling her tongue across it, her hands kneading and pulsing against Akaashi's thighs all the while.

Akaashi is more than familiar with her own body. She knows well enough what it feels like to draw herself to the edge through slow and careful teasing, through rough and hasty touches, but to have Bokuto doing this to her, to feel her body pulsing and writhing at the touch of Bokuto's hands and Bokuto's lips is more than what she could have possibly anticipated. She finds herself gasping, moaning. The heady, choked cry of Bokuto's name sounds foreign to even her own ears, but it's exhilarating in its own way.

It builds even faster than she imagined. Every bit of her composure and control feels frayed and burned apart with the heat coursing through her, racing through her fingertips where they pull against Bokuto's hair to her hips that jerk in an unsteady, staccato pattern against Bokuto's lips. All at once it blazes hotter, her voice leaving her in a breathless cry of Bokuto's name, her body legs shaking with a full body shudder as her orgasm courses through her.

She's vaguely aware of sliding down the door of her room a moment later, her body suddenly unsteady and off balance. She reaches out blindly for something to steady herself lest she topple straight over when she feels Bokuto's hands against her waist, lowering her to the floor.

"Hey, hey, I've got you," Bokuto says.

Akaashi opens her eyes slowly, looking up to where Bokuto kneels over her. Her gold eyes are still shining with the light of her own arousal, Akaashi's come slick over her lips as she grins down to Akaashi, both hands moving to her cheeks to frame her face in a surprisingly gentle hold. Akaashi can't imagine what sort of sight she must make, her shirt hanging open with her skirt rumpled up over her hips to reveal her legs and folds wet with her own pleasure. Yet seeing the eager, unbridled attraction in Bokuto's eyes only makes her feel another pulse of heat at the thought of it.

"Bokuto-san," she says. She lifts her hands up, letting her fingertips rest lightly against the back of Bokuto's palms, holding Bokuto where Bokuto holds her.

The corners of Bokuto's lips curve up, sharp, her body practically thrumming with energy, hovering close over Akaashi's face. "So, how was that? Was it good?" she asks.

"It was very good," Akaashi says, letting her eyes fall closed for a moment to savor the moment before the chill of the room steals the warmth of her pleasure from her. "Would you like me to return the favor?"

"You would?" Akaashi opens her eyes just in time to see Bokuto's eyes widen at the thought. She can feel her own lips curve in a smile at the sight of it.

"Yes, Bokuto-san," she says. Carefully, she shifts under Bokuto's hold, smoothing her skirt down as best she can before standing. "I really would like to."

"I guess then I can't refuse."

"It would be strange if you did," Akaashi remarks mildly, extending her hand down to help Bokuto up from where she's kneeling.

She isn't surprised when Bokuto takes her hand and helps herself to Akaashi's lips as soon as she's back on her feet. Although it's Bokuto's need that's likely more insistent now, if Bokuto wants it Akaashi is more than content to indulge her, kissing her until they're both breathless again. When Akaashi pulls away, Bokuto moves with her. Bokuto allows Akaashi to catch her wrists, tugging her away from the door at last and towards Akaashi's bed at the corner of the room.

With her panties discarded and the tops of her thighs still wet from Bokuto's earlier attention, even just the slight movement across her room leaves something tingling just beneath the surface of Akaashi's skin. It's desire, Akaashi thinks as she pushes Bokuto back down against the bed with a kiss, hands slipping under her obscenely bright sweater to palm against the softer fabric of her plain gray tank top beneath. Seeing the way that Bokuto twists under her in the dimming light from the windows, watching the yellows and golds of the sunset paint her skin in tones as loud and fierce as she is, Akaashi wonders at how she hadn't recognized it before.

She's seen it in Bokuto's eyes countless times before, but sharing breath and desperate kisses now, the space between them cut down to nothing even as Akaashi's pushing Bokuto's shirt and sweater away to draw herself closer, she recognizes her own desire in the reflections that she sees in Bokuto's eyes. Bokuto notices it too. Her hands are restless over Akaashi's sides and back. Akaashi's blouse and cardigan fell away somewhere on the way to the bed, and Bokuto doesn't waste time in finding the clasp of Akaashi's bra, unhooking it with a deft movement to let it fall away.

Akaashi shifts to accommodate, favoring Bokuto with an arched eyebrow as she does.

"I thought it was my turn to return the favor," she says mildly, shifting back to straddle Bokuto's hips, her hands resting over the taut skin of Bokuto's stomach. She's naked now save for her socks and skirt, as lewd an image as she can imagine, but it's thrilling to be seen this way, to let Bokuto see her this way.

Bokuto's eyes snap up to her face when she moves, darting back and forth between Akaashi's eyes and her chest for a moment before her cheeks flush darker.

"You could put on a show to return it, couldn't you, Akaashi?"

The question is half-whining half-enticing. Akaashi shakes her head slightly at the contradiction of it, how it's something only Bokuto could possibly pull off.

"I could," she says. She shifts again, perhaps arching her back a bit more than is strictly necessary as she reaches towards the chest of drawers next to her bed, pulling the second drawer from the top open. "But that wasn't my plan."

"What was your plan--?" Bokuto's attention is fixed on her now, on the motion of her arm as she pushes aside papers and books before she finds what she's looking for.

Akaashi is, after all, no stranger to her own pleasure. The reason that matters like dating and relationships don't concern her is because she's found very efficient ways of dealing with her own needs.

The vibrator is eighteen centimeters of smooth, white silicone. It's nothing fancy, a twist control at the base, a rounded point at the end of its straight shaft, but Akaashi finds it does a more than suitable job when it's needed.

She can hear Bokuto's voice catch in her throat as she slides the door shut, the sharp inhale of breath before she stammers and properly forms words again.

"Where did you get a vibrator, Akaashi?!" is what she says.

"I bought it," Akaashi says, turning back to fix Bokuto with a mild gaze. "There are plenty of stores in Tokyo where you can buy this sort of thing."

"But--you--" Bokuto's face has turned a brilliantly dark shade now. Akaashi somewhat regrets that the light of the sunset means she can't appreciate it to the fullest extent possible.

"What is it Bokuto-san?" she asks. Without twisting the base of the vibrator to turn it on, she touches the smooth tip of it against Bokuto's skin, just above the tip of her navel.

Bokuto nearly jerks away in surprise, rising up on her elbows to stare down at the vibrator before looking back up to Akaashi.

"You've been using a vibrator this whole time?!" she asks.

"I've been using it since I bought it," Akaashi clarifies.

"Well when did you buy it?!"

"A few years ago."

"So--you had that when you were on the team--?"

"Yes," Akaashi frowns slightly, at Bokuto's sudden questioning. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"It's not--wrong--" Bokuto pauses, her cheeks puffing up as she slowly lowers herself back to the bed. She gives the vibrator one last look before fixing her gaze on Akaashi again. "I just didn't expect it."

"Did you think I just used my hands?"

"I wasn't thinking about you masturbating, Akaashi!" Bokuto groans, turning to bury her face in Akaashi's pillow. A moment later, she adds, "At least, not that much."

"I see." Akaashi presses her palm flat to Bokuto's stomach instead, holding the vibrator aside for the moment. She's pleased when she feels Bokuto's skin jump at the touch. She strokes gently up and down against the firm skin of Bokuto's abs, soothing. Bokuto's eyes are on her hand the whole time, stealing up to glance at Akaashi's face only when her hand stills.

"Bokuto-san," Akaashi says mildly, returning the gaze with a faint smile at the corners of her lips. "May I use it on you?"

Bokuto's tongue darts out, wetting her lips. Akaashi can see the line of her throat shift and dip as she swallows, her chest rising and following with the motion before she ducks her chin in a slight nod.

"Yeah," Bokuto says. "Do it."

Akaashi leans forward and kisses her instead.

Bokuto's hands find their way to Akaashi's hair in a moment, threading through the short locks and holding on as she pours every ounce of her want and need into their kiss for Akaashi to feel. Akaashi knows full well that Bokuto isn't one for restraint, but knowing the full extent of how much she's wanted, how far she's pushed Bokuto simply by letting Bokuto touch her, by promising to touch Bokuto herself is heady enough to leave her thoughts swimming and her head afloat. Twisting and fumbling over Bokuto she manages to pull Bokuto's bra off and toss it away. Their chests are pressed flush together, Bokuto's modestly larger breasts swelling up to let their heat soak into Akaashi's skin while Akaashi's hands fumble with the fly of Bokuto's jeans, pushing them away with her tights and panties beneath.

After only a few moments of breathless squirming against each other, Bokuto finally kicks them all away, leaving her body completely exposed beneath Akaashi. Akaashi doesn't need to look to know what she'll see, firm lines blending seamlessly into the curve of Bokuto's hips and her breasts, taut skin stretched over muscle against her arms, stomach, and thighs. She knows the power that Bokuto's body hides, that she keeps hidden under loose sweaters and layers when they're not on the court together. Even though she's seen it time and time again in the Fukurodani clubroom or the showers, this is the first time she's wanted to touch, to memorize those lines with her fingertips, to know every inch of what it is that makes Bokuto's body her own.

She can feel herself twitch between her legs, pleasure stirring at simply the thought of it, but she knows that Bokuto's needs come first for now. Dragging her hands away from the flare of Bokuto's hips, she fumbles blindly for the vibrator against the sheets. Her fingertips curl against the smooth silicone a moment later, drawing it into her hand so she can twist the base just enough to flick it on at the lowest setting, a steady, dull hum filling the room.

Bokuto pulls away from the kiss with a gasp, her eyes wide and bright as she looks up to Akaashi.

"You're doing it?" she asks, anticipation threaded heavily through her voice.

"I am," Akaashi answers with a husky breath, touching just the tip to where her hand had rested over Bokuto's hip just a moment before.

Bokuto squirms beneath her, her breathing already heavy, her folds already shining with moisture in the dim light.

"It kinda tingles," she mutters, carding her hands restlessly through Akaashi's hair.

"It feels like that."

Akaashi draws the tip up, tracing it along the outside of Bokuto's ribs until she meets the swell of her breast. She follows the curve of it, moving steadily upward until the tip grazes against the edge of Bokuto's nipple.

Bokuto's hands pull tighter in her hair, a breath hissing out through her teeth, her eyes squeezing shut for a moment before they spread wide open.

"Akaashi--" she says.

"More?" Akaashi asks, prompting with a light press of the vibrator over the sensitive nub of skin.

" _ Yes _ ."

With a pleased hum, she indulges Bokuto, pressing down firmly, working the tip of the vibrator in a circle as she watches the shadows of the indent it leaves against Bokuto's skin. She tries flicking it back and forth over the sensitive nub, trailing it against the edge of the areola before pushing down at the center again.

Throughout it all Bokuto's limited self control seems to completely dissolve away into nothing. While she had squirmed and shifted beneath Akaashi's touch before, her body is absolutely writhing now. Each touch of the vibrator is met by an arc of her back and a low, insistent moan dragged from the back of her throat. Pulling it away brings a pleading whine, sometimes forming the shape of Akaashi's name on her lips.

Akaashi finds herself breathless just from watching, from feeling the pressure and pulling of Bokuto's hands in her hair, the shift of Bokuto's thighs against her legs. She knows only one thing for certain, she wants to see more.

On the next pass she drags the vibrator away, pressing it down instead to the underside of Bokuto's breast, letting it dip against Bokuto's navel and trail deeper. She sees the recognition as Bokuto's eyes open wide, looking up to her with her lips parted, gasping for air.

"Akaashi," she breathes, and Akaashi pauses.

"Is it all right?" she asks, her free hand reaching up to curl over Bokuto's cheek.

Bokuto turns into the touch with a flash of teeth, nipping against the pad of Akaashi's thumb with a wild grin.

"Let's see what you've got."

Akaashi's breath hisses between her teeth, her eyes lidding heavily.

"Very well," she says.

With a flick her her wrist she pulls the vibrator down, dragging the tip of it swiftly over the hood of Bokuto's clit before nudging it into the wet folds waiting below. Bokuto's whole body jolts beneath her, a strangled gasp escaping her throat.

"Akaa--" she starts, before Akaashi shifts  the vibrator up to press the tip of it to the base of Bokuto's clit. The rest of Akaashi's name escapes Bokuto's lips as a hissing moan, her head tossed back, legs spreading wider to welcome Akaashi's touch.

Akaashi takes her chance to return some of Bokuto's earlier teasing. She pulses the vibrator up against Bokuto's clit, pressing in and pulling away in an agonizingly slow rhythm. Sometimes she moves it down against the lines of Bokuto's fold, against the sensitive edge of her entrance. Other times, she pulls it away completely, her gaze flicking back and forth between the wet string of Bokuto's come trailing from the vibrator's tip and the sight of Bokuto twisting beneath her, shoving the side of her face against Akaashi's pillows as she all but begs for more.

There's no one else who's seen Bokuto like this before, she thinks. No one else has ever seen the way that Bokuto's nipples stand out as dark circles against the fullness of her chest in the harsh neon light and shadow from the streetlights outside. No one else has seen Bokuto lose herself this way, with her hips jerking and rolling in the air, chasing the touch of Akaashi's vibrator. A sense of pride settles somewhere in Akaashi's chest, warm and swelling. She can't very well let Bokuto down now.

Adjusting her hold on the vibrator's shaft, she catches the base of it between two fingers, gradually notching the dial up until she can feel the soft material thrumming harder under her fingertips. With the next brush against Bokuto's clit, she drags the tip down, dipping it into the pulsing opening of Bokuto's entrance. Her eyes are sharp, fixed on Bokuto's face as she feels the vibrator slip into her, rubbing slick and hard against her walls.

Bokuto's gaze meets hers a moment later, a wild and wide-eyed stare as her fingertips shudder against Akaashi's scalp with the rest of her body.

"Akaashi--" she gasps. Her eyes squeeze shut, her lips hanging open for a pleading moan to escape them. "Akaashi."

"Bokuto-san," Akaashi answers, the name thick on her tongue.

She draws the vibrator out until the tip just barely brushes against the edge of Bokuto's entrance before pushing it back in, harder this time. Bokuto meets the thrust with a roll of her hips, her neck stretched up with the arch of her back.

"Akaashi," she moans, loud and rough. Her hands drag at Akaashi's hair, her whole body writhing with the motion of her hips.

Akaashi answers her with another thrust of the vibrator, then another. She's vaguely aware of the harsh sound of her own breath as it pulls from her lungs, the building soreness in her wrist and arms as she plunges the vibrator into Bokuto again and again, but it doesn't matter.

Beneath her, Bokuto is beautiful. The muscles in Bokuto's thighs shudder and strain as she drives her hips faster and faster in time with Akaashi's thrusts. The skin of her stomach and breasts shine with sweat gathering in beads at the effort of her movement. Shadows stand out in stark lines against the hollow of her neck, shifting and shuddering with each gasping breath that draws another moan of Akaashi's name from Bokuto's panting lips.

She lowers herself down over Bokuto, her tongue lathing a hot line against her throat, tasting sweat. Her lips and tongue work against skin fluttering with the force of Bokuto's pulse. She can feel Bokuto's breath catch in her throat, the sharp twitch of Bokuto's hands in her hair, just as she hears Bokuto's stuttering cry.

"--shi. --kaashi, I'm--"

"Yes," Akaashi breathes rough and hard over the slick skin of her throat. She drives the vibrator in again and again, harder, faster. "Yes," she moans before her lips and teeth close against Bokuto's neck, feeling the shout of her name as Bokuto's body shudders with orgasm beneath her.

They lay tangled together for a blissful moment, their mingled breathing and the faint buzz of the vibrator the only sounds that fill the room. A moment later, Akaashi remembers to move, pulling the vibrator out and switching it off with a quick flick of her fingers before she collapses onto her back in the narrow space left between Bokuto's body and the wall.

"Wow," Bokuto says, a moment later.

Akaashi turns, just enough to see Bokuto's expression out of the corner of her eye, lit in shadows and orange light filtering in from the window. Bokuto's staring up at the ceiling, eyes wide and bright, the white of her teeth flashing in the dark between her lips in a broad grin.

"Akaashi," she says, still breathless, still staring up at Akaashi's ceiling, "That was _amazing_."

"Ah," Akaashi breathes out a short puff of breath, turning away to close her eyes. She's smiling, she knows she is, but she can't find it in herself to stop it. "I'm glad that you enjoyed it."

"I'm serious, Akaashi!" She can feel Bokuto shift beside her, knowing that Bokuto's watching her resting face now without needing to open her eyes. "I've never felt something like that before!"

"Not even when you've done it to yourself?" Akaashi asks mildly, cracking one eye open just in time to see Bokuto's cheeks darken with a deep flush.

"Not even then," Bokuto says through a scowling pout. "You're seriously good at it, you know?"

"Well, thank you."

"I mean it, seriously good." Bokuto shift to prop herself up, leaning over Akaashi with her hands braced on either side of Akaashi's shoulders.

Akaashi lifts an eyebrow at the position, lowering her gaze to let it trail all the way up the length of Bokuto's completely naked body hovering over her. It's a nice position to be in.

"You said that already," she says.

Bokuto catches the movement of Akaashi's gaze, not that it could slip past her as close as they are now, lowering herself even closer with a sharp grin against her lips.

"What I mean is," she says, fingers threading into Akaashi's hair, her knee pressing up between Akaashi's legs, against the wet heat of Akaashi's groin. "You wanna go for round two?"

Akaashi knows that she has studying to do. She knows that it won't be too long before her parents are home again. But imagining the scenario of what might happen if she turned Bokuto now, no matter how gently she phrased it, compared to the choice of feeling the warmth of Bokuto's hands against her body again, chasing away the chill of a cold winter's night, she feels like the right choice is only all too obvious.

Reaching up, she threads her hands through the mess of Bokuto's hair, pulling her down to press their lips together, her voice a low whisper between them before they meet.

"Yes."

**Author's Note:**

> I really didn't intend for this to be as long as it wound up being but these dumb lesbians got away from me. Also, the restaurant that Bokuto and Akaashi go to is a real place called [Rainbow Pancake](http://www.rainbowpancake.net/) that I'm shamelessly plugging in this fic. They are amazing.


End file.
